What are you Living For?
by Wazzy Wazlib
Summary: "I might be a 'lifeless shell' now, Angelina, but I'm not deaf. You won't sodding shut up." George/Angelina ONESHOT


**Disclaimer: Funny that you should ask. I **_**do**_** happen to be J.K. Rowling. What a coincidence.**

* * *

"He's not sleeping, he's not eating, he won't even talk to anyone," Mrs. Weasley said, looking over her shoulder at Angelina as they trekked up the seemingly endless staircase.

"It's been _three months_," Molly continued, looking extremely worried. "We're all still mourning, but George…he's just not functioning."

Angelina nodded. "Ginny's told me."

They stopped outside of the door and Mrs. Weasley gave her a tight smile. "I hope you have more luck than I do."

Angelina smiled sadly. "So do I."

After Mrs. Weasley squeezed her hand on her way past, Angelina took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"George? It's Angie. Can I come in?"

She expected the cold, harsh and blunt, "No."

"Well, that's too bad," she told him, "because I brought you those Muggle candies you're so fond of."

"No."

"I'm wearing short shorts?"

"No."

"A tube top?"

"_No."_

"Merlin, George, you're in worse shape than I thought."

_Silence_.

"You're not gonna let me in, are you?"

"No."

"I'll come back tomorrow then."

She set the candy down by the door and headed back downstairs to the kitchen.

Mrs. Weasley looked up from where she was stirring a pot of soup.

"No luck?"

"No luck," Angelina confirmed. "But I'm not giving up."

Mrs. Weasley noted the determination shining in those dark brown eyes and smiled. "I don't want you to, dear. Won't you stay for dinner?"

* * *

"So then I said, 'Katie, you're such a ditz. If you love the idiot, why would you say no?' After that, she went over to Oliver's and apparently snogged him half to death, because now she has that huge rock on her finger and his lips are chapped like mad."

Angelina sighed, resting her head against the closed door.

"Don't you see how boring my life is now, George? I mean, Alicia is now an intern at St. Mungo's, Oliver and Katie are engaged, you're a lifeless shell, and I'm what? Some no-talent reserve Chaser for the Harpies. Pretty lame, if you ask me.

"Not that we blame you, George. We were all out of it for weeks. Just…" a lump rose in her throat and she blinked away sudden tears. "George, he'd want you to live. _I_ want you to live."

Still unending silence was all that came from the other side of the door.

"George, I've been coming to visit you for _two weeks_. The only think I've gotten out of it is therapy. I've given you quite an earful, huh?"

…

"At least let me know you're still alive in there."

He sighed, and she jumped in surprise as she realized he was only a few inches away, the door the only thing in between them.

George was sitting on the floor, his back pressed up against the door, his good ear tilted towards her voice.

"Have you actually been listening?" her voice asked him through the door, sounding surprised.

"I might be a 'lifeless shell' now, Angelina, but I'm not deaf. You won't sodding shut up."

She gasped dramatically. "He remembers how to speak!"

"Haha," he said sarcastically.

Angelina was beside herself. "Progress!" she sang.

"You're such a dork."

* * *

"I can feel it. You're _this_ _close_ to letting me inside. I bet it reeks in there."

George only snorted as he found himself sitting with his back to the door again. "It's not s'bad," he said defensively. "I've gotten good with cleaning spells over these past few months, and Dunham brings me food."

"Who?"

"My owl. He usually stays at the shop, but Verity keeps sending food."

"Right. Well, speaking of food, I've brought you something!"

"What?" he asked suspiciously. "More candy?"

"No. It's a photo album Kates and I made. I thought you'd like to see it. We've been taking a lot of recent pictures," she explained, sliding the small leather-bound album under the door. "I thought you'd like to see how everyone's changed."

"Merlin," he breathed, flipping it open. "Is that Oliver? He looks like he's been on steroids, or something of the like."

"How do you know what steroids are?" Angelina asked curiously.

"Erm…I…uh…read about them?"

"George!" she said in surprise.

"Calm down, I've never taken any. Charlie does, and Fred and I stole some to spike Percy with."

Angelina smiled as he talked about Fred, without falling into one of his mourning spells.

"That diamond is _huge_," George went on. "Can Katie lift her finger? And why did Alicia dye her hair? It looks better blonde."

She blushed with pleasure as he let out a low whistle. "Wow, Ange, you look great. How recent is this picture?"

"Pretty recent," she told him. "And come off it, it's just a picture, and Katie did some tweaking—"

"Shut it, would you? You've always been a looker."

"Oh. Thanks," she told him, blushing a deep red.

"You all look so happy," George said. "You look…"

"Alive?"

"Yeah. I wish…"

"What?"

"I wish I could be happy again," he said sadly.

Angelina rested her head against the door. "Then let me help you live."

* * *

Three days later, George let her inside.

She nodded in satisfaction. "Well, I guess I owe you ten sickles. It's actually clean in here."

He barely smiled as he took the silver coins she held out to him.

"Glad to see you're not all skin and bones," she remarked, eying his rather muscular body in surprise. "But the beard? It has to go."

"I like the beard!" he said, looking offended as he stroked it fondly.

She raised her eyebrows.

"I'm _kidding_," he stressed, rolling his eyes.

"Oh. Haha, very funny," she told him sarcastically. "Just shave it off, or I'll do it for you."

"Ok, _mum_."

Angelina bit back a smart reply, grateful that he had regained at least some form of a joke—an annoying, cliché one, sure, but a joke nonetheless.

A dark curse initiated from the open door to the bathroom, and Angelina stepped forward. "You okay, George?"

"Nicked myself," he growled.

She snorted with laughter. "Somebody forgot how to shave!"

"Did not!" he retorted bitterly. "Ow! Dammit!"

"What was that?" she teased.

"Leave me alone, would ya?"

* * *

Angelina laughed as she climbed up the steep slope of the grassy hill. Once she had reached the top, she set down the picnic basket, placing her hands on her hips as she turned to look at George, who was lazing his way towards her.

"A little faster, please. You're burnin' daylight."

George squinted up at her. "I don't like being outside. It's too…"

"Cheerful? Bright? Sunshiny and happy?"

"Bright, yes," he said, pausing to fish a pair of sunglasses out of his pockets.

Angelina snorted. "You're such a dork."

He pulled a face. "Look who's talkin'."

She stuck her tongue out at him, then spread the quilt out that she had unfolded from the picnic basket.

"Well, sit down!" she said to George, who was watching the whole thing with much amusement.

He decided to humor her, and sat down on the quilt, overlooking the village of Ottery St. Catchpole.

"I have…turkey, ham and cheese…orrr…peanut butter and jelly," she informed him. "And some crisps."

"What a feast," he told her.

"I try," she said, taking the sarcastic quip in full stride as she tossed him a ham and cheese.

"Since when do you make sandwiches?" he asked her.

"Anyone can make a sandwich, George."

"Even you? The girl who _burns water_ before it's even in the _pot_?"

Angelina threw a bag of crisps at him and grinned. "Shut up. It's not even possible to _burn water_."

"My point exactly."

"Jerk!" she said laughing, whacking him with the paperback novel she had brought along.

They fell into a rather comfortable silence, the only sound the twittering of a few birds, the wind ruffling the pages of Angelina's paperback and the crunching of George's crisp bag.

"Hey, George?"

"Hmmm?"

"Are you happy now?"

"Define 'happy'?"

She looked over at him with a sweet smile. "Do you have something to live for now?"

He leaned back on his hands, tilting his head slightly as he looked at her. "I may have."

"And what is it you're living for?"

He adopted a thoughtful expression as he turned his head to look at the Burrow, seemingly small in the distance, and beyond even that, the sun that was just beginning to set.

He turned back to smile softly at her.

"I'm livin' for you, Ange."

**

* * *

**

Meh. Not mah best.


End file.
